


Wishing  you were here

by tickedtabbyflower



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5251850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tickedtabbyflower/pseuds/tickedtabbyflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armand tends to escape into his own haunted past when he's alone, but this time the past is so close in Lestat visiting that it's almost too jarring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishing  you were here

Wandering through the cemetery wasn’t unusual, especially for the children of darkness. Above all, the cemetery was a place of peace and quiet. When the full moon was out the towns people stayed far enough away. It was a night such as this that Armand sat near the back, an area where children had been buried, to collect his thoughts. Two hundred years had not dampened the feeling of loss, nor of regret. One of their own had went into the fire once more, leaving him to scatter such ashes.

“It is the coven leader’s job to do such so that those that have gone to whatever abyss lies on the other side do not come back.” Allessandra had chided him as he’d stared at those ashes. Each time he’d scattered the ashes, only renewing that pain from so long ago inside himself. What of his makers ashes? Who had scattered them, if anyone?

He’d tipped the jar, letting the ashes wash down stream. He felt his own weariness weigh on himself even more. His mind floated back to a time of warm marble walls and red velvet, a soft voice speaking to him. A soft sigh escaped him, amber eyes closing to allow the scene to come back in full force. Ah, he could smell the wax from the melting candles and the ink from the little well upon the master’s desk.

He felt the heat course down his face, knew the stain would be visible to the older vampiress in his coven, but he didn’t care. “Marius, why?” He whispered, his breath hitching in his throat. Even as he heard such laughter in his mind, felt those warm memories surround him, his eyes roved over the children’s graves. He couldn’t help but wonder if such was envy , that they were at peace with the teacher while he was stuck. “ God, how much I wish you were here…”

A voice had called for him. Quickly ridding himself of the twin red streaks that colored his pale cheeks, he stood to go to the call. They’d caught the friend of the fiend that dared to enter the city. The fiend himself had finally shown up and he was needed.

As he entered, eyes and mind in another time, he felt his breath and heart stop at the sight. Red, the same color as his master, adorned this man. Blonde hair and strong build was a ghost of a memory, the hair more deep in color. That memory he’d held nearly drowned him once more. His hand balled, nails biting in his palm to keep his mind off this figure in front of him. It was not Marius, this laughing monster. He was the coven leader. Even if he wished it, Marius had not survived, could not come to him. Wishing would not bring him back.


End file.
